


Honest Work

by VicenteValtieri



Series: A Thousand Lives Unlived [17]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Trauma, fights and action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicenteValtieri/pseuds/VicenteValtieri
Summary: Something of an alternate universe for my fic, Scutwork. It picks up - I would say - from about the middle and runs something of a parallel. Enjoy something a little more fluffy than that one.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Starscream
Series: A Thousand Lives Unlived [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/714828
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Honest Work

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Scutwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197849) by [VicenteValtieri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicenteValtieri/pseuds/VicenteValtieri). 



“May I see your spark?” Optimus asked one evening. “Not to merge – Call it curiosity, but I would like to see it.”

Starscream held his optics shut. The Prime knew he was awake, but he wasn’t going to show Optimus the sudden shock and fear that would have flowed into them. If he saw his spark, he would know. And then everything would end. He wasn’t ready for it to end. Wasn’t ready to lose Optimus. Wasn’t ready. 

“You don’t have to show me.” Optimus gently kissed his audial. “But I would like to see.”

Starscream didn’t answer, servos balling into fists. He tucked in on himself and buried his faceplates in the Prime’s chassis so he wouldn’t see anything, and forced himself into recharge. The warm, comforting feeling of the Prime’s arms on his sides followed him down.

“May I see your spark?” Optimus had a way of making too-forward questions seem so soft, polite, and even romantic. He was holding Starscream close as they relaxed in afterglow. It was the second time he’d asked, and Starscream still had no answer. He didn’t want to outright refuse. He couldn’t give in either.

“If you need a lamp, you have your bedside one.” Starscream archly replied, hoping humor and sarcasm would do what silence couldn’t. 

Optimus chuckled and kissed the Seeker. His scar was a definite point of texture against Starscream’s lips. It was an inconsequential mark for Starscream. Why Optimus hid it, he couldn’t tell. It made no difference to him. But it clearly did to Optimus. 

Perhaps the scar had some meaning. “Who gave this to you?” Starscream asked, touching Optimus’s lipplates, tracing along the line. It wasn’t a good question. Optimus tensed. He didn’t push Starscream away, but every plate wound tighter. 

“It’s not a nice story.” Optimus replied, steadily, holding Starscream in his arms. “And it doesn’t make good berth talk.”

“I don’t think there are any nice stories anymore.” Starscream kissed his neckcables and stretched a little. He enjoyed the warm servos on his frame. The calm EM field tangling with his own. He was glad the subject had changed. 

“May I ask why you’re not comfortable showing me your spark?” Optimus asked one evening as they sat together on top of the Ark and looked at the stars. Above, they were points of delicate light – suspended by invisible wires in the air. A thousand globes of glowing gases spinning in silent grace.

“It’s not a nice story.” Starscream echoed Optimus’s words about his mask. Every day was growing more precious to the Seeker. He looked forward to waking up for the first time in his life. He wanted the sun to rise. But if Optimus kept pressing to see his spark… 

“…If I tell you about my scar, will you tell me about your spark?” Optimus offered, looking over at Starscream instead of the night sky. He stared at the moonlight on Starscream’s pearl coat – the way it reflected and shone in the light. As if Starscream was a star who’d fallen to earth. 

Maybe the reason he flew was because he was trying to get back up there with them, to the place he belonged. Optimus would have chuckled at himself at any other time. 

Starscream sighed. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” He would come up with a lie. That was what he would have to do.”

“All right.” Ever considerate, Optimus agreed and pulled Starscream a little closer.

“Can you even see the sky with me here?” Starscream glanced over his shoulder at the Convoy half behind him.

“The view’s beautiful either way.” Optimus told him, gently stroking his hip. 

Starscream flushed and purred softly as he turned back to the stars. The warmth in his spark glowed through the rest of his frame.

“I want to have sparklings. Eventually.” Optimus stroked Starscream’s cockpit as they rested against each other in his living room. They were watching a human fantasy movie – Willow. The effects weren’t as good as the Harry Potter series, but it was diverting enough. They were watching as Willow cared for the infant princess. It was a tender scene.

“…I may be barren.” Starscream admitted softly. 

Optimus froze at his back briefly, absorbing the information. “…Well, I’m not.” 

Briefly, Starscream found himself utterly shocked. Optimus was a convoy, he was a Seeker. The “breeding frame” destined to have dozens of sparklings and lose them all to war or hard labor. And Optimus offered to carry? Just like that? …Considering it was Optimus, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “You would take time out of leading your men to carry?”

“I was speaking of the future rather than the here and now.” Optimus cradled Starscream close to him. “When the war ends.”

Starscream stilled. He didn’t want to think of when the war ended because the war would only end when either Megatron died or he fulfilled his mission and killed the Autobots. He closed his optics. “…I don’t know if the war will end.” He breathed out into the air.

Optimus nuzzled him. “The peace you and I have found has given me hope that we will find a way to end it.”

“If you want this to stop, just kill Megatron.” Starscream bit out. “It won’t end so long as he’s alive.”

Optimus drew back a little, as he always did. “…I can’t kill Megatron, Starscream.”

“Why not?” The Seeker looked up at him, peeved. If he would kill Megatron, that would free Starscream to make different choices…

“Because I have never killed.” Optimus admitted quietly. “I have fought. And I have injured. And incapacitated. But I have never killed.”

Starscream went silent. He’d never realized… Of course, everyone knew Optimus Prime tried to fight without killing, but to actually have never… “Never?”

Optimus shook his head. “Never.” 

Starscream’s spark ached in his chassis as they watched the rest of the movie. He clung to one of Optimus’s large servos, feeling the power in them. And yet… They were gentle. And clean. He raised the blunt digits to his lipplates and kissed them. 

He wasn’t worthy of the mech.

After the movie, Starscream escaped Optimus’s grip into the Prime’s washracks and gripped the sink to keep himself from trembling. Poison… He was just poison. He wasn’t even a weapon. Just something released to do as much damage as he could.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this. Not for a target. This was supposed to be an easy mission – it was an easy mission! He could have killed Prime a hundred times over, but he hadn’t. What was wrong with him?

Tears sprang to his eyes and he thought he saw energon blood when they fell on the white tile. Whatever was wrong inside him – was it coming out? Would it be written on his outside as surely as the inside? No! No, he couldn’t let that happen – It couldn’t happen! He had to maintain the veneer… Only Lord Megatron was allowed to know – it would ruin everything. Optimus would see what he was – he would stop loving him. He would cast him out. The war would never end, he would fail, and he would be utterly alone. 

Starscream looked up into the mirror, saw his tear tracked face, and buried it again. No, no, no! Don’t feel this! He’ll know! He’ll see you – He’ll see what you are!

Lashing out at his reflection, Starscream shattered the mirror. The noise was sure to draw attention as huge shards of glass began to fall around his fist.

“Starscream?” Optimus’s voice and his heavy footsteps. Loud knocking at the door almost drowning out the screaming and sobbing in Starscream’s helm. “Starscream, what happened?!”

Would it be better or worse if he just didn’t answer? He’d see the mirror. He’d know something happened. But what could he say? He’d thought the rot inside him was coming out and he’d panicked? He held his bleeding servo to his chassis and hyperventilated.

“Starscream, I’m coming in!” Optimus opened the door with his override and rushed to his side. “What happened? How did the mirror break?”

Starscream’s vocalizer was too choked up to answer. Optimus gently pried his hand away from his body and saw how cut it was. “…We have to see Ratchet.” He told Starscream, pressing a servo to his faceplates, making him look up at his pure, blue optics. “Starscream, do you know where you are?”

Starscream’s optics were full of clarified energon and he stared up at Optimus’s open expression – concern, love, trust – and tried to make words come out of his vocalizer. They wouldn’t cooperate. Damn his vocalizer to the Pit.

Optimus pulled him close, soothing him with a gentle servo. “You’re in our quarters, Starscream. At the Ark. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Starscream closed his optics and let himself believe it. 

“I think he had an episode of some kind.” Optimus told Ratchet as Starscream recharged on a berth in the Autobot’s medbay. “And lashed out at the mirror.”

“…I’d be more surprised if he didn’t have an episode of some kind occasionally.” Ratchet had his arms folded and his lipplates tight. Like the other members of Autobot Command, he didn’t entirely trust Starscream, but the cuts on his servo were real enough. “He has to be up to his neck in untreated issues. If Rung were here, I’d recommend him in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

“Rung isn’t here.” Optimus sighed beneath his breath. “I don’t care about the mirror. It’s just glass. But what if something worse happens and he hurts himself badly enough…” He trailed off, shaking his helm.

“That’s a lot to think about from just one episode, Optimus. It could have been an anomaly. He’s been here almost a year and this is the first one we know about.”

Optimus lowered his helm. 

“Optimus?”

“There was another. But it was less violent.” Optimus quietly told Ratchet. “We were joking and I had to go to a meeting. I told him I would ‘punish him later.’ And he had an anxiety attack by the time I returned.”

“Optimus!” Ratchet gave him a surprised look and shook his helm. “That’s not your fault. But you should have told me. Still, two episodes in a year isn’t a bad record for someone with Starscream’s history. Having been under Megatron for so long… His processor has to be a mess, Optimus. Just be gentle with him for a bit, all right?”

“I will be.” Optimus promised. “I wonder if it was the mirror… If something about his reflection triggered it.”

“Self-image issues? Maybe. He does wear a lot of cosmetics. But I’m not trained in this, Optimus. So don’t take anything I say as Gospel. The best I can tell you is, just be there for him.”

“I can do that.” Optimus went to sit beside Starscream, like he had when the Seeker was braced and on life-support, an inch from slipping through the Well’s gates. Why did it feel the same? Why did he feel like he was watching his lover die?

Starscream’s servo trembled as he tried to apply his usual eyeliner. “Damn.” He whispered to himself. It was one of those rare mornings where Optimus didn’t have to run off immediately and here he was, wasting it because of a shaking servo.

Optimus appeared at his side and picked up a cleaning rag, wiping off the offendingly wiggly line with care. “Let me.” He took the applicator from Starscream and dipped it back in the pure, black paste. With care, he striped a solid line from the inner corner of Starscream’s eye out into a delicate wing on the opposite corner. Then, he swapped sides and did the other one. “Is that better?”

Starscream glanced at himself and saw a weary, battered, damaged thing. A broken doll. Something to be thrown away – at best, melted down to be made into something else. But the lines of black makeup were perfect. “Yes. Thank you.”

Optimus grew nervous when he saw how Starscream was regarding his reflection. He bodily picked the Seeker up, pasting a smile over his faceplates and lifting Starscream into his arms. “Good. Then let’s go outside and have a picnic. I don’t have to be anywhere yet.”

Starscream mustered the energy to smile back and he felt better, hoisted into Optimus’s arms. He could almost forget what he really was. 

Bumblebee ended up joining Optimus and Starscream on their breakfast picnic. He talked cheerfully to Starscream and his commander as they sat on top of the Ark together. Starscream drew out of his shell slowly, enjoying the day and thanking Primus for it. 

“Look, the moon!” Bumblebee pointed at the sky. “…Spike and Carly were telling me a story about how the sun and the moon love each other so much that they die every sunrise and sunset to let each other have some time to shine.”

Starscream wasn’t listening. He could see the moon, but he wasn’t focusing. It could be his last day, after all. Or worse, Optimus’s last. He gave the Prime a glance and felt a sense of choking panic in his chassis. 

“…I would pull the sun out of the sky and give it to you if you asked.” The confession slipped out of his vocalizer without his bidding. 

Bumblebee laughed. “Leave it up there! I like it where it can shed light on the daisies.” Satisfied their picnic went well, he slid down the Ark and walked off. 

Optimus looked over at Starscream and their optics met. The Seeker felt energon welling in his optics. Because he’d told the truth. He would. He’d fly up and try to pull down the sun if Optimus asked. 

“…I think the flowers need it more than I do.” Optimus pulled the Seeker into his arms and held him close. “But thank you. And if you ever want the moon, just ask.” He kissed Starscream’s forehead and held him in plain sight for a long time. 

Starscream sat in front of his vanity, holding his vents. Optimus was deep in recharge behind him. He was going to look. 

Optimus had mentioned his spark again, and it seemed he wouldn’t be able to avoid the issue forever. It would just keep coming up until something gave and he revealed all. 

So he would see the damage. Look at the rot, and see if he could somehow build a veneer to hide it more directly. If it was even visible. Truthfully, he didn’t know. 

So why couldn’t he just trigger his chassis to open?

He’d do this in the refresher if he could, but the mirror hadn’t been replaced yet. The wall above Optimus’s sink was blank. His vanity was the only mirror he had easy access to. 

Well… Get on with it.

Starscream stared at himself, red-gold optics burning into themselves as he strained to open his chassis. But it wasn’t working. He felt like he was going to pop himself if he kept this up. Why couldn’t he just look?

Something wet under his optic brought him blinking back to reality. His optic was bleeding – Why? Why did the energon look like that…? Was that – Was that what it was? Oh, no. No, no, no… it was coming out! It was coming out! He couldn’t let it!

Starscream clawed at his face, especially his optic, trying to wipe it away or push it back or something to that effect. He stood up and staggered, knocking over his stool. 

Optimus grabbed him from behind and physically pulled him back from the mirror as he clawed at his faceplates. He wrapped his large servos around Starscream’s wrists and pulled them away from his face. “Starscream! Starscream, it’s all right! You’re here. You’re with me!” 

He would see! Starscream yelped and struggled wildly before he collapsed into Optimus’s arms. Oh, what was the point? He would find out eventually.

Optimus turned Starscream around and examined his optic. He’d scratched the cheekplate beneath it fairly deeply, but the optic seemed fine. “Starscream, what happened?” The Prime held him close. Could he not see? Was he blind?

“You shouldn’t love me.” Starscream babbled, frustrated with this oblivious idiot he was in love with. “You shouldn’t – I’m wrong. I’m rotten, can’t you see that?”

“What you are is tired.” Optimus pulled him close. “And scarred. And I’m sorry I can’t make it better for you, but I promise: I will always love you.”

Starscream felt more energon flowing down his cheeks, but he knew they were tears this time. Optimus held him until they stopped falling on his shoulder.

“You need Ratchet.” Optimus picked him up. “Come on.”

“Cosmetic damage.” Ratchet told Optimus as they observed Starscream in the medical berth – once more sedated into a dreamless sleep. “Nothing more serious than that.”

“…He said I shouldn’t love him.” Optimus told his friend, staring at Starscream with a sparkbroken expression. “That he was rotten.”

“Self-esteem and self-image.” Ratchet frowned. “…I don’t like that he was clawing at his face this time instead of the mirror. That’s self-harm. It’s a whole other ballpark.”

“He seemed genuinely panicked.” Optimus sadly set a servo on the Seeker’s and squeezed it. “…If only I knew how to help you.” He murmured to Starscream. 

“He probably was.” Ratchet didn’t really need to remind Optimus how PTSD twisted the mind’s perceptions and processes. Optimus was familiar with Ironhide’s sudden nightmares and Prowl’s crashes. “…All you can do is be there, Optimus.”

“I know.” The Prime settled in heavily. “I’ll watch him, Ratchet.”

“Mention the possibility of sleeping aids when he wakes up. See how he reacts.” Ratchet walked off, muttering under his breath.

When Starscream woke, he was back in the orange medbay with Optimus in recharge against the berth. He set his servo on the Prime’s helm and stroked. His face itched where he’d scratched it. Ratchet must have put him back together, then sedated him.

Had they seen after all…? Then why was Optimus still here?

He was probably trying to pretend it didn’t matter. That Starscream was still the mech he’d fallen in love with, no matter what he was like under the surface. 

Starscream vented heavily and tried to sit up. He felt heavy and his tanks were rolling from the sedatives. 

“Starscream…?” Optimus came up with oral lubricant trailing out of his mouth. Cute. Starscream wiped it away out of habit. “Don’t try and get up, it’s all right.” He struggled to his pedes, blinking recharge out of his blue optics, and tenderly embraced the Seeker, trying to guide him back down. 

“Why are you still here?” Starscream asked. 

“All I had on my schedule was a meeting. I had Prowl reschedule.” Optimus explained, pressing him back down into the berth. 

“Didn’t you see it?” Starscream gave him a confused and baleful look. 

“Starscream, all I saw was you were afraid and clawing at your faceplates.” Optimus sighed, stroking his cheek lightly. “...The next time you feel the need to do that… Wake me first, all right. I can help you with some things.”

Starscream stared at the Prime. He hadn’t seen anything. What? But it had been… Had he really imagined it?

“If you want me to leave, I will.” Optimus told him. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather be with you. Wherever you are.”

Starscream began to tremble and sob. The convoy tried to fold him close, but a servo shot out between them. “…I want to be alone.”

Optimus couldn’t hide the hurt he felt run through his spark, but he pulled his arms away. “Comm if you need anything. Or call for Ratchet.”

“I will.” Starscream turned on his side and curled inwards, one claw tracing his lipplates nervously. 

“Starscream.” Optimus turned back at the door. “I meant what I said. I love you. And no matter what you think right now, I always will.”

Starscream cringed a little further on himself. Why… Why did he have to be so utterly, undeniably good? Even one unkind word would make this easier. 

Bumblebee came into the medbay with a small tree in a pot in his servos. “Hey, Starscream. I heard you were in here today, so I brough you something! I know it’s not flowers, but… It’s a plant?” The charming little Cybertronian set the tree on the table beside Starscream.

Starscream struggled to smile for Bumblebee, to maintain the veneer, but he was just so tired. “I’m not feeling up to talking today, Bumblebee.” He told him, hoping he’d leave.

“That’s okay.” Bumblebee climbed up onto the berth beside him. “I was hoping for a nap anyway.”

“A nap?” Starscream raised his optical ridges. 

“Yeah.” Bumblebee cheekily curled in beside the larger Cybertronian. “I told Wheeljack I was coming to see you so he wouldn’t ask me to help him organize his lab. I know you wouldn’t let me get blown up in there. Would you?” Bumblebee batted his optics.

Starscream couldn’t help a breathy chuckle. “Of course not. You can hide with me then.”

“Good.” Bumblebee hugged Starscream’s side. “You should try for some recharge too. Ratchet told me you had another bad night.”

Starscream’s wings stilled and dropped. “I suppose everyone must know.”

“No. Ratchet only told me because he knows we’re friends and he thought you needed some cheering up.” Bumblebee smiled at Starscream. “No one else knows.”

For some reason, that comforted Starscream. “Thank you, Bumblebee.”

Both Bumblebee and Starscream woke to klaxons blaring. Bumblebee leapt up. “Starscream, the base is under attack!” He started to rush out, then stopped. “Let me get you back to Optimus’s rooms – Ratchet will need all the space he can get.”

Starscream slipped out of the medical berth and grabbed Bumblebee’s gift. “I can find my own way.”

“Just let me make sure.” Bumblebee took his servo and tugged him along. Starscream went as fast as he could behind him. The alarm was making him want to start panicking. His vents began to come faster. Why was Megatron attacking? He wasn’t supposed to make any moves until Starscream completed his mission…

Oh. Oh, no. 

Starscream checked his internal chronometer. Two years. He’d taken too long. Megatron had run out of patience and was coming to demand a status report or to scrap the mission entirely. He wasn’t ready for that! He had no excuse for why he’d taken so long to finish off Optimus and the Autobots. What was he going to say or do?

Megatron was going to be furious. For the first time in a very long time, Starscream felt real fear at the idea of seeing his faction leader again. 

He found himself begging whoever was out there that Optimus would repel Megatron before he could come for him. Bumblebee left him along in the Prime’s quarters and Starscream was, once again, reminded of the first time he’d thought about Megatron here. If he defeated Optimus today, he’d probably frag Starscream right in this berth. 

Starscream squeezed the rubber mattress with desperate servos. No! It wasn’t right. And even if he didn’t, he wanted to see Optimus’s faceplates. Wanted to be held another day. 

When Megatron burst into the room, Starscream flinched back instinctively, but then rose to meet him. He’d die on his pedes, at least. 

“You!” Megatron was furious. “I require a full accounting of your actions.” His cannon was humming and hot – he’d fired it several times already. 

Starscream’s vocalizer closed. He couldn’t even defend himself. Clarified energon began running down his faceplates. 

“…Why you worthless, rusted, little traitor!” Megatron growled, stalking forward. “I could grind you underpede here and now - !” He reached into his subspace and brought out a vial that Starscream recognized. “But it’s only fitting you have your traitor’s death.”

Starscream swallowed. His optics filled again and he wished he could just stop crying. Why was his voice shaking. “No.”

“You dare defy your master, you rotten thing?!” Megatron grabbed Starscream by the throat and tried to force his helm back. 

Starscream flinched back from the vial in the other servo. “I don’t want to die!” He screamed and then he couldn’t stop screaming. 

Optimus dragged himself on an injured leg after Megatron. It wasn’t hard to deduce where the tyrant was going. He’d practically bragged about it as he crushed Optimus’s knee. The rest of the Decepticons were being held off by his Autobots, but Megatron was in the base and headed straight for Starscream. 

Why were his quarters so far away? Optimus forced his knee to hold him up as he took a better step. Starscream could be dead by now. 

He heard the screaming when he reached the officer’s quarters and it gave him some strength. He hauled himself up and forced the knee to work with him as he made for the blasted door to his own quarters. Megatron had taken it right out of the frame like so much scrap. He had Starscream pinned to a wall, struggling and screaming for all he was worth, and he was trying to pour something into the Seeker’s intake. 

Optimus summoned all the strength he had left and dove across the room with his ion blaster out. He brought the hilt crashing down on Megatron’s helm in the hardest pistol-whip he’d ever put on anyone. The warlord went down, his outstretched servo spasming and dropping the vial. Starscream shrieked when some of the contents hit his cheekplates and helm, turning his face away as Megatron released his grip on the Seeker’s neck. 

“Starscream!” Optimus cried out when he saw his faceplates burning. Rushing to his side, he tried to wipe the stuff away and burned himself. White acid. 

“…You fool.” Megatron stood up, recovering himself. “Now I can just kill you both.” He lined up his cannon on them, but Optimus would forever be his obstacle. With a massive effort and the sound of a snapping strut, he threw himself against Megatron’s arm and pushed the cannon away, forcing it to fire into the roof, mostly harmlessly. They crashed down on the berth and it broke in half from their combined weight. 

Starscream was frozen, his faceplates deeply burned. Was he dying? No, but he would be soon. Megatron would vaporize him for this. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. 

I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! It was all he could think, running loops around his processor. I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I don’t want Optimus to die!

Somehow, that thought was stronger than all the panic he felt. His optics found the Prime’s ion blaster where it had dropped after hitting Megatron’s helm. He picked it up and found it was surprisingly heavy. He wouldn’t be able to aim this thing with his servos. 

Bracing his trembling frame against a wall, he pushed the ion blaster into his hip, steadying it and aiming. “Optimus! Get out of the way!”

Optimus rolled off of Megatron, expecting to see Starscream bring something crashing down onto the tyrant’s head. Megatron sprang to his pedes, ignoring his downed enemy and hyperfocusing on the Seeker across from him. “You dare protect him?!” He roared so loudly Starscream’s audials began to ring.

Starscream pulled the trigger and held it down. The kick put bruises and dents into his protoform and plating. His servo began to ache almost immediately, but the ion blaster rose to the challenge admirably. It put three bolts of bright light straight into Megatron’s chestplate, crumpling it and then piercing through. 

Megatron raised his cannon and Optimus raised a hand weakly. “No!” 

Starscream felt his vocalizer close as he aimed and fired at the same time Megatron did. The fusion and ion mixture supercharged each other, resulting in an explosion that threw Megatron back, destroying his cannon and extinguishing his spark. 

Starscream’s veneer burned away like paper. His rotted core and spark were bared before the world as the fusion blast did what the acid had failed to do. He slumped back, falling down the wall. The whole world was a streak of blinding pain, but blue seemed to cut through it. He saw Optimus over him. 

“I don’t – “ Starscream tried to speak, but it was too painful. He offlined with his lover over him – optics trained on the wreck he had become. 

He woke up bandaged and welded. More protoform patches than he’d ever seen before were fused to his frame. Optimus was beside him in a chair, helm forward – asleep. 

Was this some dream before the Allspark took him?

He moved and some equipment chirped. Optimus woke and lifted his helm. “Starscream? No, don’t get up. Don’t get up.” He stood and gently pressed the Seeker back to the berth. “You were so badly injured… I thought you might not…” He was overwhelmed. “But you’re going to be all right.”

“Why are you still here?” Starscream asked softly. It seemed he was still alive. “Didn’t you see it? Didn’t you see the rot?”

“What are you talking about?” Optimus asked, gently taking a delicate servo and squeezing. “All I saw was a brilliant, beautiful mech. And I was terrified, that you wouldn’t survive. There was no rot. There was nothing. Just you and I. And I love you. I can’t live without you.”

Starscream was silent for a long moment, thoughts turning inward. “I’ll live?” Megatron was gone. The Decepticons were finished. He didn’t have a mission anymore. 

“You’re going to live.” Optimus kissed him. 

“Then I’ll stay. For as long as you want me.” Cracked lipplates rested briefly. “May I have some coolant?”

“Anything you want.” Optimus tended to him with care and settled him back in the berth before he sat down. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“…I didn’t want to die.” Starscream closed his optics.

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t.” Optimus kissed his servo. “I’m right here. I love you.”

“I love you too…” Starscream trailed off as he fell back into the peaceful void.


End file.
